Trapped Within the Glass
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: Alone with just the girl in the mirror...Somehow it seems like the girl I used to be has gotten trapped within the glass. Have I let her get so far away that she cannot be saved? Is the girl I used to be gone forever? Silence is my only answer.
1. Of Internal Conflicts

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A/N: **Okay, so I got tired of not seeing enough of Nessa, so here I am! ****I hope you enjoy! Oh yeah, almost forgot. ****I don't own _Wicked._ If I did, would I be writing fanfics?** ****

My pen flew across the paper, slowly filling the pages with my thoughts. Elphaba had left long ago, Father was dead, Boq hated me. What else do I have? I glanced up and noticed the looking glass on the dresser. My eyes locked with themselves in the reflection and suddenly I knew. I still had this, but I was alone. Alone with just the girl in the mirror. Just her and me. The Wicked Witch of the East. We deserve each other…

I knew I had to finish writing before Boq returned. I knew if I waited, I would lose my nerve. Boq hated me, no doubt about it. So, really, why did I have to hurry? He wouldn't try to stop me. I sighed and glanced over what I had written.

_My soul has been shattered and the fragments scattered across the world. I sometimes feel as if I will never regain all the pieces. The world is so vast, its wonders endless, the beauty stretching on for all eternity. Do I deserve to live in this wonderful place? Is it really possible to feel so many things at once? Words are so minor and insignificant to describe how I feel. I suppose it's too powerful to be transformed into art. _

_If I died tomorrow, I'm not sure how I would feel about it. I think I'd go to Heaven, but am I ready to die? Has all that has happened to me turned me into a completely different person, or am I simply trapped in this one moment in time?_

I dropped the pen and glanced up, my eyes catching the mirror again. Somehow it seems like the girl I used to be has gotten trapped within the glass. Have I let her get so far away that she cannot be saved? Is the girl I used to be gone forever? Silence is my only answer.

I moved my hands to the wheels of my chair and pushed myself over to the door. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I found myself reflecting on my life. Had I ever really done anything to help another person? Not really, but did I really want to go through with this? I wasn't so sure anymore. I turned my chair around, somehow managing not to fall backward down the flight of stairs. I placed my hands on the wheels again, preparing to move.

Thunder boomed loudly. The sudden sound startled me, made me jump, and before I could grasp what was happening, I was falling. My hands were desperately clawing the air trying to find something--anything--to hold on to. I landed at the bottom of the stairs, my chair pinning me to the floor. I knew I didn't have the strength to move, so I waited.

I was jostled awake by Boq lifting my chair off my body and heard him calling my name. Dimly, I registered the use of my name rather than my title, but was too tired to care. He carried me back up the stairs to my room and as we passed the mirror, I stole a glance at my reflection. I smiled weakly to myself. I knew I had won. I was going to free her. I was going to _be _her. I had to. That was all there was to it. I had to let her go. The girl I used to be. Trapped within the glass.

**A/N: I'm planning on writing a sequel to this, about Boq's thoughts when he finds Nessa. Should I, or should I not?**


	2. Of Chilling Discoveries

I was walking. Don't ask me why or to where, because I didn't know. I suppose I just needed to get away for awhile. Nessa had gotten so unbearable lately that it was driving me mad. As always when thinking of Nessa, Glinda followed quickly behind in my thoughts.

Nessarose, with her dark hair and eyes and icy demeanour, was a direct contrast to the object of my affection. Glinda was blonde, blue-eyed bubbly perfection, and I longed to make her mine. Nessa. Dear Oz, I hated her. She truly was just as wicked as her sister. Possibly even worse. How dare she strip the Munchkinlanders of their few rights? Who did she think she was?

Sighing, I changed direction and headed back. Back to prison, back to wickedness, back to _her_. I pushed open the door and gasped at the sight that greeted me. Nessa was lying in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, her chair pinning her to the floor. I rushed to her, pulling the chair from the limp form, calling her name.

"Nessarose?" I asked, waiting to hear any kind of answer. Anything. "Nessa? Can you hear me?"

No answer.

Sighing, I picked her up and made my way up the stairs. She was alive, but I wasn't sure for how long. I thought I saw her smile as we passed the mirror, but couldn't be sure. Why would she smile? Had she planned this? After placing her on the bed and wrapping her in a blanket, I noticed a small notebook on the bedside table. Picking it up, I was surprised to read the words written in Nessa's hand, speaking so calmly of death. As I read over the words, I realised that I didn't hate her. She wasn't completely horrible. She was just lonely. Like a girl trapped within the glass of a mirror.


End file.
